


Ficlet: Safe

by Jacqueline Albright-Beckett (xaandria)



Series: Between The Lines [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Co-Sleeping, Comforting, Cuddling, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Relationship, human!Cas, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaandria/pseuds/Jacqueline%20Albright-Beckett





	

Very suddenly and startlingly awake, Dean reached for the knife on his nightstand before his eyes were even fully open, scissoring his legs to get out from under the blankets and his feet under him.

“I’m sorry!” came a familiar voice, sounding horrified, and because Dean had never heard this voice in this context it took his sleep-sluggish mind a moment to place it.

He huffed a large, relieved sigh and threw the knife back to the table. “Cas. Don’t - don’t _do_ that.”

In the dark, Dean could only barely see Cas holding up his hands sheepishly. “Sorry. I...had a dream. And I needed to make sure you were all right.”

The adrenaline rushing through Dean’s body was starting to go sour with its uselessness, and he sat back on the bed, still shaking slightly. “First time you ever had a nightmare?”

“It was remarkably vivid. I thought...but no.” Cas shook his head, intertwining his fingers and staring at them.

“Thought what?”

“I thought maybe it was a vision. That I hadn’t lost everything, after all.” Cas shrugged, not lifting his eyes. “I used to get them, you know. When you or Sam were in danger. Like a wordless prayer. You probably didn’t even know you were sending them.”

Dean hadn’t. A lot of near misses suddenly made a lot more sense. He looked at Cas again - really looked at him. Shoulders held back, with plenty of space between himself at the dresser behind him; Cas still had the spatial awareness of his wings, still held himself as though they were something he needed to support. The distracted expression, as though he were listening for something that wasn’t there but should be.

It had been weeks. To Dean, it seemed like a lifetime, but to someone who could recount the march of eons...Cas had Fallen practically yesterday.

Something twinged deep inside his chest, and he patted the bed next to him. “C’mere.” Confused, Cas moved slowly around the foot of the bed to take the proffered space, and flinched slightly when Dean put his arm around him. “You’re a bit old for it, but...” Dean could feel a blush working its way up his cheeks, and he was grateful for the darkness to hide it. “When Sammy would have nightmares, I’d get him a glass of water and tuck him into my bed and tell him stories until he fell back asleep. When he was little,” he clarified. “I mean, they were identical beds in a shitty motel, but for some reason being in mine made him feel better.” He shrugged, starting to feel foolish. “I dunno, I -”

“I’d like that,” Cas said in a small voice.

Mouth suddenly dry for no reason, Dean stood, freeing the blankets so Cas could slide under them. The glass at the bathroom sink was reasonably clean, and Cas didn’t drink more than a sip from it anyway before placing it carefully next to the knife on the bedside table.

“What was it about?” Dean asked, somehow feeling out of place as he sat down on the other side of the bed.

Cas was quiet for a moment before he answered. “I couldn’t save you,” he said simply.

Dean waited for more, but nothing else came. “Oh,” he said finally.

The faint sound of the refrigerator humming to life gave a low background to their silence. Dean cleared his throat. “So which story do you want to hear? I do all the voices for the three little pigs.”

“Just you being here is enough.” Cas’s voice was starting to grow thick with sleep, and he pulled a blanket up more tightly over his shoulder. “Think I understand Sam now.”

“Hm?”

“This is where safety sleeps.”

While Dean was trying to figure out what to say to that, he could hear Cas’s breathing become deep and even. Idly, he wondered if he should go sleep in Cas’s bed down the hall, now that this one was occupied.

No, he decided, surprising himself with the honesty of it. No. The idea of Cas being near as he fell asleep touched a small thrill in his stomach, a tiny spark to add to the growing collection that he would have to examine sooner or later.

Besides, he’d slept on the bed that was in Cas’s room, and it didn’t hold a candle to his memory foam.

Moving slowly to avoid waking the man on the other side of the bed, Dean slipped under the blankets and rested his head on the pillow. It felt strange, having the blankets drape over another form before they draped over his.

It felt nice.

His musing was starting to dissolve into the senseless continuum of nonsense when Cas turned over, arm falling over Dean’s shoulders and jolting him awake again. Dean nearly said something, nearly got out of bed to go down to Cas’s room, but then Cas pulled Dean close.

“Keep you safe,” Cas murmured, and he sounded so content that Dean didn’t have the heart - nor, he admitted, the inclination - to break away.

He closed his eyes again, feeling Cas’s chest rise and fall against his back, and was surprised to find that as slumber stole over him like warm water, he did feel safe.


End file.
